


It Is Not Love That Is Blind, But Jealousy

by SilverFountains



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Lots and lots and lots of smut, M/M, Rough Sex, Three times smut, outdoors sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/SilverFountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt: revenge</p><p>I wanted to do something a little less obvious with the prompt. And then I realised I had not yet written any smut for the  challenge yet, so here is MY revenge - three for the price of one. I am going to kill you all with smut mwhahahaha :D</p><p>This is a bit of Tolkien, a bit of Jackson and a lot of me ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Is Not Love That Is Blind, But Jealousy

They were the princes of Durin, young and handsome warriors – even if only in name, without any real battle experience, but then none of their generation did. Both were charming and full of life and they attracted the attention of many dwarves who wished for the honour of having one of the princes warm their bed. But whereas Fili took it in his stride and graciously declined many such affections, Kili was much less choosy when it came to his suitors.

I was something that had bothered Thorin when they had been among their own people back in Ered Luin and his scowls had sent many a suitor scuttling away again. But now he feels himself balling his fists as Kili is giggling with one of the young elf lords and brushes accidentally on purpose passed his sleeve.

“Stop it, Thorin.”

His head snaps up to Dwalin who takes a seat next to him and shoves a tankard of wine his way.

“Stop what?” he grumbles, taking the tankard and taking a big gulp.

“Stop scowling at him like that. Either leave the lad be or tell him you disapprove. But don't just sit here eating yourself up over it throwing him the evils.”

“I am doing no such thing.”

Dwalin laughs, slapping him across the back. “Come of it, Thorin! Subtlety was never your forte! If looks could kill …”

“It’s an elf!” Thorin growls softly, looking at him now. “A bloody elf!”

Dwalin smirks and raises an eyebrow at him. “I recall you having the very same issue when it was a dwarf lass previous. I don’t think it really matters who is fluttering their eyelashes at Kili, Thorin. We both hate the elves, but don’t pretend that that is your main issue. You are just jealous.”

Thorin almost spits his wine across the table. “I am not jealous!” he utters in indignation. “I have been plenty satisfied in the bedchamber, thank you, and I have no desire to bed such a creature!”

Dwalin raises an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that is not what I meant.” And he throws a meaningful glance back at the dark-haired prince.

Thorin flushes, but he crosses his arms defensively, lowering his voice. “Kili is my nephew and it is my duty as his elder to ensure that whoever he chooses as his consort is of a suitable standing.”

Dwalin laughs loudly. “His consort? By my beard, Thorin the lad is not even one hundred yet. He is just fucking them, not proposing to them!”

He can feel the angry blush creep up his neck at and his frown at his friend deepens as he takes another deep tug of his wine. If he has to sit here and be embarrassed by his nephew whoring himself out to the elves, he might as well get drunk.

He groans as Kili gets to his feet and disappears towards his chambers, his elvish suitor in hot pursuit. He does not have to guess what they will be up to later and he feels sick to the stomach at the thought. He does not want to admit to Dwalin’s indecent suggestion. He is angry because his blood is running off to lay with the enemy, nothing more. It has nothing to do with the flutters in his stomach that he has been feeling for years now whenever Kili throws him that bright smile. It is completely irrelevant that whenever those sparkling deep brown eyes burrow into his he want to grab the young prince and push his tongue down his throat.

“You need to get in there quicker next time,” Dwalin sniggers. “Either that, or make him jealous in return. He enjoys it you know, watching you squirm like that. He is challenging you.”

Thorin throws Dwalin a quizzing look. “Challenging me?”

But Dwalin just grins, “You will work it out. Once you stop denying how you feel about him.”

Thorin shakes his head. Kili is his nephew and many years his junior and the idea that the young prince would even be remotely interested in being romanced by his uncle is frankly ludicrous.

***

He knows his uncle is spitting mad with him for taking the handsome elf to his bed tonight. But he is past caring with Thorin. He has tried for nearly a quarter of a century to win Thorin’s heart but his elder clearly has no such interests in him. And he is not going to spend his days pining for someone who does not want to be his.

He runs his hands through the mahogany hair of his suitor and he wonders how many dwarves and elves have lain together in the history of their races. Throughout time they have been enemies as much as allies.

“You are so soft,” his lover groans in surprise as his hands roam over his body and through his hair. “I was expecting you to feel more rough than this.”

Kili frowns, not sure whether that is a compliment or not – it is probably a compliment for the elf, but being called soft as if he is a lass is hardly flattering for a dwarf. He silences his lover with a deep kiss as he bucks his body up against his. The kiss feels no different than when he had slipped his tongue into the mouth of a dwarf lass or lad. It is equally soft and wet and warm and is making him equally hard. But the elf does smell different, of herbs and grass and flowers rather than of earth and metals.

Kili groans as a slender hand slips into his breeches feeling for his pulsing length. He is glad that the elf wants to get a move on as much as he does. He has never been one for lengthy foreplay, he is far too impatient for that.

“Do you like that, Kili?” the other whispers heatedly against his neck.

Kili throws his head back as he gives in to the feeling of the hand running up and down his shaft, smearing his fluids over his tip and pumping him into service. He whimpers softly in agreement. “Yes, good.”

The elf-lord squeals softly as Kili flicks him over. He may be shorter but he is equally strong. He presses his lover into the mattress as he explores his body hungrily. Elvish anatomy is very much just an elongated version of dwarvish anatomy he muses. Everything is still in the same place and he is relieved to find that despite their height differences the elf’s cock is no bigger than his own. In fact, scale wise that makes him rather better endowed he grins proudly to himself.

He realises with a shock that he cannot remember the guy’s name and he feels rather shallow as he pushes the sleek, milky white legs apart, drawing heated whimpers from his lover as he begins to tease his finger between the soft buttocks. It doesn’t really matter. As soon as he decides to throw some khuzdul phrases into it the elfling whimpers with heated delight and is dribbling his lusts onto his stomach. “Oh, you like it when I talk dirty to you in my language?” Kili grins. The other nods eagerly and Kili continues to recite one of their regular battle prayers to the unknown recipient of his words, who is twitching blissfully ignorantly for him.

As his fingers drive into the warm hollow between the soft elvish cheeks his own body finally gives in to pure want. He wants to take this creature, he wants to leave his mark on him. And most of all he simply wants to come. He has not had an orgasm since they left Bagend – which had been his last opportunity for some self-service – and he feels like he is ready to explode.

He works his lover open expertly and is pleased to find that the elf too has that special gland inside him that brings such pleasure. Clearly his lover is less familiar with this particular treat and he bucks and moans loudly for him. Kili grins smugly as he watches his sleek lover come undone rather quickly under his practised fingers, flushing a delicious pink as his seed spills onto his body.

Before the other has a chance to recover, Kili presses against his entrance, slowly forcing himself in under the pleasured gasps of his flushed lover. It feels little different than fucking a dwarf male, perhaps just a little tighter but then that could just be because his lover is less experienced – the elves certainly seem less free sharing their love around and the elf had seemed quite nervous when Kili had propositioned him.

“Good?” he asks through his grunts.

The elf has wrapped both his arms and legs tightly around him and is whimpering deliciously under his thrusts, helping Kili quickly towards the height of pleasure he is seeking. He sets a fast pace – too fast perhaps considering his lover seems unpractised, who is gasping and whining for him – and soon he relieves the elfling from his burden as he spills his orgasm deep inside his body, thrusting through the pulsing release until he collapses heavily down onto his bed partner.

He rolls off his dark-haired lover and fumbles for his pipe. The other stares lovingly up him with those big brown eyes and long eye lashes and that silly post-climax grin across his face. Kili gives him a brief smile back before he lights his pipe and draws deeply on it.

“You are amazing,” his elvish lover whispers huskily.

Kili smiles kindly. What can he say in return? You were alright yourself? It was nothing special, really, just a quicky to blow off some steam. And to wind up his uncle. He had delighted in the evil stares that Thorin had thrown at him as he had flirted with the one now lying with his head on his chest. “It was amazing,” he flatters back as he draws his hand through the deep brown hair and places a kiss on the head of another one-night-stand, sinking back into the pillows as he lets the post-orgasmic heat dissipate from his body.

***

Thorin had been on edge from the moment they entered Mirkwood. But Kili seems to care little that he has just thrown titanium onto an already blazing fire. Even Fili raises an eyebrow at his loose brother as he flirts openly with the red-haired elf lass and he wonders if his little brother is intent on leaving a path of broken hearts in his wake as they traverse Middle Earth.  

Thorin throws daggers in his direction as his youngest nephew flutters his eyelashes at the elvish captain and he knows Kili sees it even though he pretends not to notice. He takes his frustrations out on the meagre meal that they have been served by their host – yet another that is distinctly lacking in protein – stabbing at the greenery as if it would walk off his plate if he did not kill it first.

He glances at the elfking from the corner of his eye. Thranduil has not changed a bit since he last saw him well over a century ago, when he had turned his back on Thorin’s plea for help as his home and his people burnt around them. Age barely touches the immortal elves and the king looks no older than his fair-haired son. And despite his distaste of the sassy king who had betrayed him so he cannot deny that the elf still has that same allure about him that had he had once found so attractive, when the elfling had first bowed down before his grandfather’s throne . He is like a finely crafted gemstone and something possessive and greedy stirs inside the mountain king.

Thorin is somewhat bemused as he notices the king’s son giving Kili the deathstare over his coquettish behaviour. He guesses there is some jealously on the part of the elf prince over the red-haired lass as the blond makes a point of distracting the elvish captain from their visitors. And suddenly he thinks back to what Dwalin had told him back in Rivendell. That Kili was challenging him. That Thorin was jealous of his suitors. That he should make him jealous in return. It had seemed a ridiculous suggestion at the time. But by now Thorin has a guts full of Kili’s silly games. He is tired and anxious that they might not make it to Erebor in time and he has enough of being made to a look a fool by his flirtatious sister-son. And he is not going to be outdone by his younger kin.

“I thank you for your kind welcome,” he smiles sweetly at Thranduil. After their earlier standoff, they had both agreed to disagree and Thranduil had offered Thorin and his company a meal and a bed for the night under the agreement that Thorin would allow the king of the woodelves a share in the treasure if they reclaimed Erebor. Thorin had smirked and agreed – he too could play that game. If Thranduil could make promises that he did not need to honour afterwards, then Thorin had no issue agreeing to something he had no intention of honouring either.

The silver haired king returns a curt smile and nods. “I think we have come to a mutually profitable agreement.”

“Indeed.” And he lowers his voice for only the king to hear. “And perhaps there could be other benefits to my stay in your kingdom tonight.”

Thranduil raises one of his thick eyebrows at Thorin. “Is there another offer that you think may stir my interest, king of the mountain?”

“I am sure we could come to another mutually pleasurable arrangement,” Thorin cocks his head ever so slightly.

He watches the elfking draw in a breath. Next he feels a brief brush against his thigh. The gesture is almost unnoticeable, but it sends an electric pulse through his spine and into his privates. It has been a long while since anyone had given him pleasure. A very long while indeed. He had been so busy with the preparation for their quest that there had been no time to woo anyone into his bed and they have been on the road for well over two moon cycles now.

He glances over to Thranduil who is twirling the sparkling ring around his fingers and it is making him twitch with want. He feels like a complete hypocrite, but then again if Kili can bed an elf, so can he. And he will do it on his level, with the highest ranking elf he can get his hands on. “Do we have an agreement?” Thorin smiles darkly.

Thranduil returns the smile and nods. “I think we do.” He holds out his hand to Thorin who presses a lingering kiss on it, his lustful gaze never wavering from Thranduil’s, before they both rise to their feet.

Thorin briefly scans his company, catching Dwalin who gives him a surprised smirk. And then over to Kili … Whereas his youngest nephew had previously made it obvious he was ignoring his uncle’s stare, he is now looking at him opened mouthed, suddenly the lass by his side forgotten as he looks incredulously at the two state leaders looking at each other like long lost lovers. Thorin knows he is being childish, but he cannot help the smug look that crosses his face as he smiles defiantly at him. _What you can do, so can I – and better!_ And he follows the elf king towards his private quarters.

“This is a pleasant surprise, Thorin,” Thranduil smiles down on him as he closes the door behind him. “I had not thought you would be able to put your pride aside for me so easily.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Thorin growls as he steps right up to him. “I am horny and so are you. We can stand here and talk of politics and pride or we can fuck. Which do you prefer?”

Thranduil laughs softly at the crudity of the dwarf king – they are such an unpolished race. Then again there are few who dare to speak to him in such a direct way and he thinks it is rather arousing as he bends himself down against the chapped lips of the mountain king.

It has been far too long since he has felt the warmth of a kiss and his hunger stirs in him like ember reigniting into a smouldering fire. They find themselves stumbling awkwardly as they press hard against each other, hampered by their height difference only until they sink down onto the soft downs of the elvish bed. He is surprised by how quick the elfking is to surrender to him. He had expected more of a struggle for dominance between them, but his fair-haired lover seems quite content to lay himself back and be touched.

“You are soft as a lass,” Thorin smirks. “Such a pampered princess you are.”

Thranduil snarls at him, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand between his thighs. “Not that soft,” he hisses as he bucks himself up into Thorin’s hand.

Thorin smiles a wanton smile, “Indeed. Quite ready for me, it seems.” He straddles the elfking and draws up his tunic, throwing the garment on the floor. Thranduil’s long fingers run over his skin, making him shivers as they dig into his coarse chest hair and trace old battle scars.

“Good enough for you, elf?” he throws Thranduil a heated look.

“Quite acceptable. And I would certainly like to see more of what you have to offer, dwarf.”

Thorin rolls himself off the bed and pulls at his laces. “You too,” he points a stern finger at the silver-haired elf, who nods and smiles as he begins to disrobe.

By the time their bodies touch again Thorin is so hard he is aching.

“How long has it been, king Thorin?” Thranduil smirks, watching the other struggle to keep control and knowing the title will excite him even more.

“Too long,” Thorin acknowledges through gritted teeth as he grinds himself down onto his lover. The feel of Thranduil’s hard sleek cock pressing against his own is almost too much and needs to get a grip. “Oil?” he utters huskily.

Thranduil grins and grabs a beautifully decorated flask from his dressers, pressing it into Thorin’s hands. “Indulge me, mountain king,” he sighs deeply. “It too has been a long while since I felt a good cock serve me well.”

Thorin scowls at the phrase, but he swallows down his pride. After all it is Thranduil who is the submissive one before him. He moves himself down to have a better view of the pleasure he is seeking and coats his fingers in the greenish substance that smells earthy – like all of Thranduil’s kingdom. Thranduil’s spreads himself in anticipation and groans as a rough thick finger runs over his sensitive place. “Suck me, Thorin Oakenshield,” he moans.

Thorin cocks his head. Sex has not happened for a while for him, but sucking another man’s cock is indeed a long forgotten skill. He licks his lips as he looks at the hard shaft pressed against his lover’s stomach and bends himself down with a smile. As he drives two fingers deep into Thranduil’s backside he simultaneously takes his tip into his mouth. And Thranduil utters to most wonderful noises as he starts to pleasure him.

“Does this please you, your majesty?” he smirks as he lets go of the sweet tasting cockhead.

“Very much so,” Thranduil smiles, his icy blue eyes sparkling with delight. He grabs hold of Thorin’s thick hair, digging his long fingers deep into his locks as he guides him back to where he wants him. And he groans loudly as Thorin takes him back into his mouth, sucking at him in long deep tugs.

As he bobs his head down, taking the royal sceptre deeper down his throat, his fingers twist to find Thranduil’s sweet spot and he does not take him long before he has hit gold. As the silverblond king’s moans become more urgent and irregular he promptly lets him drop from his mouth.

“Thorin!” Thranduil cries out in dismay, but the dwarf king ignores his cries. He is not going to take the seed of an elf into his body; that is a step too far.

He grins with lust as he pulls back his fingers and quickly replaces his hand with his cockhead. Thranduil thrashes under him as he pins him down and smoothly drives himself into the sweet heat between the king’s legs. “You wriggle nicely for me, my queen,” he teases.

Thranduil hisses at him, but nonetheless draws him in deeper. “Fuck me, you bastard dwarf!” he growls. “I know full well you have no intention to honour our agreement. I know you far too well. But you will honour this one!”

Thorin laughs. Indeed Thranduil knows him well, as he does him. He still feels as good on his cock as he did the first time he had shafted him, back in Erebor so many years ago. He had been so willing to bend over for him then too and no matter what has come to pass between their two races since, he still stirs his loins just as well.

But despite the lust that the elfking calls up in him, he is not the one that is on his mind as he thrusts himself into the heat of his body. As he closes his eyes the image of silver blond hair shifts into dark brown. And the name on his lips as he works himself to his peak is that of his sister-son.

Thranduil is bucking hard back onto him now as he drags his pulsing cock over his prostrate and Thranduil’s finger nails are drawing deep scratches into his skin. “You sassy elvish bitch,” Thorin cries out as his back is beginning to sting and he swears the other is drawing blood. “Come, damn you!” He thrust himself into him even harder until the elfking cries out his pleasure as his hot seed flows between them.

It takes him but one more pump to reach his climax and he grunts loudly as he fills his old adversary up with his semen. The release after so many months without is pure bliss.

As he rolls off him, Thranduil sighs deeply. “You are still good,” he admits.

Thorin smirks in satisfaction. “Don’t think this changes anything. I still despise you.”

Thranduil raises an eyebrow but laughs. “I am flattered you have such strong feelings about me.”

Thorin snorts as pulls himself off the bed. He has taken what he wanted and he has had his revenge on his slutty nephew, but he is not going to lie in the arms of the elfking as if they are romantic sweethearts. He quickly pulls his clothes back on and looks at Thranduil, who is still splayed on the bed, naked and soiled and clearly in no hurry to get up. “You may leave now,” he waves his hand at Thorin in a bored kind of fashion.

Thorin throws him a dismissive look before he turns around and leaves to find his own chambers.

***

“What is the matter with you, brother, you have looked like an orc’s backside ever since we left the woodland realm,” Fili teases as Kili throws a stone into the camp fire.

Kili scowls at him before he glances over at Thorin who is calmly smoking his pipe, a little away from the others as he always does. They are close to their destination now. So very close and everyone is getting excited that they might just make it in time for Durin’s Day. Everyone except Kili.

“Did he give you a taste of your own medicine?” Dwalin teases as he walks over to the two princes, handing them a bowl of broth that Bombur has just served up.

“What do you mean?” Kili narrows his eyes at the big warrior.

Dwalin grins widely. “Come off it, Kili!” he says as he seats himself close. “You have been playing Thorin for months now, trying to get a reaction to all your flirting and screwing around. Everyone has seen it – subtlety is not a Durin trait. And so he did. And you are jealous. You are green with envy that Thranduil got to have what you want so badly.”

Kili frowns, but doesn’t respond. Has he really been that obvious? He knows he has been teasing Thorin. It had just been a game. Partly to try and get him to notice him. Partly to show him defiance. But he had not thought that everyone had picked up on it. But he knows Dwalin has hit the nail on the head – he is jealous. The moment he had seen Thorin follow Thranduil out of the dining hall he had wanted to scream at his uncle. And he cannot stomach the thought of them screwing together. Up until then his uncle had almost seemed asexual. He never had a lover at his side and Kili had never for a moment thought that his reaction to his gameplay would be Thorin bedding an elf also. And now he curses himself for pushing Thorin.

“Damn it, Kili, just tell him how you feel,” Dwalin hisses quietly at him. “He feels the same about you and I am fed up with watching you two hurt each other whilst you are both too stubborn to say it.”

Suddenly he jumps up and marches over to his uncle, ignoring the surprised stares from his brother and Dwalin piercing his back.

“Good evening uncle,” Kili smiles his sweetest smile. “May I join you?”

Thorin nods but does not say anything.

“Do you think we will make it to Erebor in time?” Kili tries to make casual conversation.

“If all goes to plan from now on then we should,” Thorin answers. “We have three more …”

“I love you.”

Silence. It feels like the entire world has frozen around them, but when he glances at the others he is reassured that he has uttered his declaration quietly enough and that no-one – other than Fili and Dwalin – have even noticed him take a seat by his uncle.

To his horror Thorin gets to his feet. So Thorin does not feel the same – Dwalin had lied to him and now he feels like an idiot! He scowls over at the warrior, but then squeaks as he is hoisted to his feet by his uncle’s large hands. “Follow me,” he orders him with a whispered command.

Dwalin throws him a smug glance, before Kili quickly trots after his uncle, struggling to keep up the fast pace his elder is setting.

As they come to a more wooded area, not too far from camp, but far away enough not to be seen or heard, Thorin comes to such an abrupt stop, that Kili bumps into him. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Thorin, what …?”

His uncle grabs him roughly by the shoulders and pushes him hard against a tree. Kili’s eyes grow large with surprise. He opens his mouth to say something else, but is silenced as Thorin cuts off his airflow with his mouth. He is so shocked, that it takes him a second  to respond, but then he leans into the warm kiss. Thorin’s lips are cold from the cool night air but his tongue is hot as it slips into Kili’s mouth.

Kili throws his arms around Thorin and answers the kiss with equal hunger and passion, sliding his tongue over Thorin’s as he tastes his way into his mouth. Of all the kisses that he has shared over so many years not one comes even close to what he is feeling right now. Thorin’s mouth is melting into his and everything about it is just perfection – the feel, the taste, the smell…

When they finally pull apart, Kili’s mouth still hangs a little open and Thorin swipes him thumb over his bottom lip, red and swollen with passion. “Say it again,” he breathes hotly.

“I … I love you,” Kili trembles under the touch.

“Then why did you bed every suitor that came your way?” Thorin growls. “Why did you never save yourself for my touch?”

Kili blushes in embarrassment. “I tried to tell you before!” he argues back. “But you were always too busy, never seemed interested in me. So I gave up trying.”

“You bedded an elf!” Thorin growls as he nips at his neck. “You traitorous whelp, I should have you hanged for it!”

Kili feels himself flare at the hypocrisy. “Oh really?” he spits back. “That is ripe coming from you! You who was happy enough to fuck with the very elf who betrayed our people! You hypocritical b…!”

He screams as Thorin bites down onto his mouth again, wrapping his hand tight around Kili’s throat. “I want you!” Thorin groans as he drags himself hard against Kili’s body. Then he smiles at him and loosens his grip. “Turn around!”

Kili stills and frowns at him. “What?”

“I said, turn around, you disobedient dwarfling!”

Kili gives his uncle one more defiant stare, but he can see that in those stark blue eyes there is no menace. Only love amplified by the dilation of his pupils in deep lust. And he feels himself melt into obedience, slowly turning himself around. Thorin’s large hand forces him to bend over. He grabs his hands and pushed them roughly against the tree. “Hold still,” he whispers as he places kisses against his back.

“Thorin …” Kili whimpers softly, “what are you doing?”

“Giving you what I should have given you a long time ago.” In one easy motion he pulls loose the lacing of Kili’s breeches and pulls them down, exposing Kili’s backside to the cold mountain air.

“Oh Mahal,” Kili whimpers. “Thorin, I …” He loses his voice in surprise as Thorin runs a finger over his pucker. With the rough treatment so far he had expected the same here, but the touch is gentle and loving. “Does that feel nice, sweet boy?” Thorin sighs as he continues to run his fingers in tiny cirlces over his rim.

“Yes, uncle!” Kili whispers softly. “Thorin, I … Please …”

“Please what?” Thorin pulls Kili’s coat up further, gently kissing the skin on his back whilst he slowly pushes his finger inside Kili, teasing the heat that envelops him.

Kili gasps at the intrusion. “Please fuck me,” he stutters.

Thorin smiles. “You eager little whore.” He roughly pulls back his finger and pulls loose his own lacing, releasing his thick shaft. He spits in his hand to slick himself up as best he can before he runs his tip between Kili’s cheeks. Kili wriggles softly and then digs his fingers into the bark of the tree as he is immediately stretched by his uncle’s cock. It stings with so little preparation and he cries out softly. But he bites back his vulnerability and pushes the thought of pain down. If Thorin is testing him then he will prove himself worthy. He can handle pain. He can handle his big cock. He will not let him think anything else.

Thorin stills inside him, at least giving him a chance to get used to his girth. “Now who do you belong to?” he growls at him.

“You!” Kili whimpers.

“Good boy,” Thorin smiles, before he pulls back and starts to pound himself into his nephew’s backside. So very long he has dreamt of this night. So many times he had thought himself a fool for thinking it would ever happen. Perhaps he should take it slower, but his desire is too great. He knows he is hurting Kili as he sets an unforgiving pace, but his lover is taking it without complaint as he is ridden into submission.

“Better than the elf?” Thorin nips at his back.

“Mahal yes, so much better, Thorin!” Kili shouts out. Then he grins, growling back, “Better than the elfking?”

Thorin smirks at Kili’s cheekiness. He slams himself even harder between those soft cheeks, making Kili almost lose his balance. “The elfking could not take such a pounding,” he flatters his lover. “But you can, my delicious prince.”

Kili feels pride well up inside him and he spreads his legs wider, bending even lower to give Thorin deeper access into his body. He will show Thorin what he has been missing out on. He will make sure he never leaves his side again.

Kili’s heat is so wonderful as it wraps around his shaft.   _Nothing like the elfking_ , he muses to himself. Sex with Thranduil had been good, but it was pure lust. This is something else altogether. Although he is taking Kili rough there is so much more flowing between them than horniness. He wants Kili to be his, now and forever. He wants him never in anyone else’s bed again. He is his and his only.

He grabs possessively for his lover’s cock, wrapping his hand firmly around the shaft. Kili sighs gratefully. He so badly wanted to touch himself but he needs both his hands on the trunk to keep himself upright. But Thorin seems to have read his mind as he begins to pull him off in the same maddening rhythm as he is pounding him. He tries to keep quiet and he is biting so hard down onto his lip that he tastes the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. “Thorin….” He begins to whine again, “so close.”

“Not yet,” Thorin groans, grabbing his base hard, making Kili jolt. “I want you to hold on. Make it last.”

Kili nods as Thorin continues to pound him. He has never been fucked this long and this hard before. His lovers have always been much younger than Thorin with much less experience and very little control over their eager sex, quick to start and quick to finish – as Kili is guilty of himself. He swallows hard as he tries to hold off his orgasm. It is hard. Thorin is slamming against his prostate sending jolts of pleasure right through his body.

“Thorin, I can’t ….” He whimpers.

“Yes you can,” Thorin bites into his shoulder blade, pinching his base again. “Every time you get close you tell me and I will stop you. Promise me. It will feel good, Kili, so good if you just obey me.”

Kili nods although tears are stinging in his eyes now. His butt feels raw and his balls are aching as again Thorin stops the flow in his prick.

He is beginning to lose count how many times he thought he could hold no longer, only for Thorin to pinch him again and again. He feels lightheaded and is beginning to sway on his feet. How long can Thorin keep going for? Considering his age his stamina is rather impressive and Kili feels woefully inexperienced as he stands trembling under this intense shafting.

“No more!” he cries out. “Please Thorin, please let me come!” he is actually crying and shards of bark are digging painfully under his finger nails as he tries so hard to hold on.

This time Thorin does not stop him. Instead his thrusts become shuddering movements as he grunts his deep release. And Kili can hold on no more as he spurts into Thorin's hand, gasping, shouting, crying as his orgasm feels so intense he thinks it might kill him. He has never come like this before, having been brought to the brink of his climax so many times and not being allowed to come. He thinks he might collapse as his knees buckle under him, but Thorin holds him in place, his arm wraps around his waist as he pushes in deep once more to fill him with his seed.

When they fall still Kili stands swaying and he blinks hard. Everything is throbbing, his cock, his backside and seemingly every nerve in his body. Thorin pulls him to his feet as his softening cock slips from him. Kili shivers as the fullness vanishes, leaving a strange sort of emptiness in its wake – feeling both blissful and unfulfilled. And he sinks against Thorin’s body as his strong arms wrap around him. “Are you alright, Kili?” Thorin whispers softly in his ear as he presses kisses all over him.

“I … I think so,” Kili sighs.

“I love you too,” Thorin presses a deep kiss on his lips, before he helps him pull up his breeches. “And I am never letting another lay their hands on you ever again.”

And Kili smiles, content with his uncle’s possessive statement as he snuggles closer into the embrace that he has longed for for so long. If this how Thorin promises to look after him as a lover he will be more than happy.


End file.
